


Possessive and Obsessive

by QuintessentialCat



Category: 50 Shades of Grey - E. L. James, Fifty Shades of Grey (2015), Fifty Shades of Grey - All Media Types
Genre: Feminist Themes, Not Canon Compliant, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 16:58:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5751025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuintessentialCat/pseuds/QuintessentialCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Anastasia Steele was actually the college educated women that she's supposed to be? What if Anastasia was strong willed, impulsive, and believed in a world of equality like many college educated women out there do? Well, then the story would have ended much differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possessive and Obsessive

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of this, thank God. I use E. L. James' story for feminist fodder. I love myself a good romance, but I crave women I look up to. Not Anastasia, who makes English majors everywhere cringe.

She tripped into his office. She wasn’t normally such a klutz. It was this stupid office with all these women. She wanted to tell herself not to be intimidated, because she was, after all, a college educated women. She knew it was a lie that she needed to feel insecure around women more beautiful than herself. Yet, sometimes it was hard to fight those lies society told her throughout her life. So she got distracted, both at the same time wondering if the women chose to wear those outfits, a little too well fitting for a business setting, and telling herself to hold her criticism if they did choose, because they deserved to choose what to wear. 

There Anastasia, who normally was actually quite graceful, tripped over a slight step up into the office before her. As quick as she fell, she brought herself to her feet once more. She quickly finds her voice.

“Excuse me, that step caught me off guard,” Anastasia brushed off her skirt and coolly stepped forward. Mr. Grey stiffly studied her. She couldn’t help but want to flinch under his gaze. She could tell already that he was one of those men who felt he ran the world. In Mr. Grey’s case, he probably ran most of the world around him. However, the unapologetic stare gave Anastasia a bad taste in her mouth as she remained that every one of his female workers was blonde. That could not be legal. At all. 

“Miss Kavanagh,” Mr. Grey put out his hand to be shook, “I’m Christian Grey. Are you all right? Would you like to sit?” Anastasia takes his hand, firmly, giving him a practiced handshake as hard as his own. She thought he was too attractive by society’s standards, only more of a sign that he likely thought himself a god on this earth. She looked straight into his eyes as they shook hands, cataloguing how his handshake was a little too hard for a good handshake. Likely a show of his own power over those around him. 

“Miss Kavanagh is actually indisposed currently, so she sent me in her stead. I hope that is fine with you, Mr. Grey.” She ignored his questions, taking a seat anyways.

“And you are?” An amused expression. Anastasia wanted to wipe that grin off his face. She told herself she was likely being oversensitive, making it out that he was laughing at her when he wasn’t. However, her subconscious fought her reason and told her he was probably one of those men who thought it funny when strong women walked in and showed their weaknesses. 

“Anastasia Steele. I am studying English Literature with Kate… I mean, Miss Kavanagh, at WSU Vancouver.” She was too distracted, one of her largest flaws. She often got distracted and came off what many called clumsy and ditzy because of it. In this case, Anastasia’s eyes caught hold of pictures on the wall, forgotten objects painted to look almost real. 

“A local artist. Trouton,” Mr. Grey explained at her gaze. 

“They’re beautiful. Nothing speaks greater to our society then that which we leave behind.” Anastasia mutters, studying them still, “It’s nice to hear you are supporting local artists, as well.” She meant that sincerely too. 

“I couldn’t agree more, Miss Steele,” He replied, still studying her intently. Anastasia sees a lag and quickly unpacks her purse. A voice recorder set on the coffee table between them. Kate’s note cards in one hand; a pen readied on a legal pad in the other. Upon realizing that she never used this type of recorder, Anastasia stumbles briefly to start it before setting it firmly down and staring into the eyes of the man across from her. 

“I apologize. I’m unfamiliar with this voice recorder and was only informed this morning of the necessity of me coming, so I didn’t have a chance to acquaint myself with it.” 

“Take all the time you need, Miss Steele.” Anastasia looks pointedly at him. Obviously she was ready.

“Well, to start, do you mind if I record your answers?” 

“After you’ve taken so much trouble to set up the recorder, you ask me now?” Anastasia blinks once, twice at him. 

“Well, it covers my end if I have it on tape that you agree to the recording.” She finally says. A slight lie, but she felt better defending herself. What kind of person says something like that? Mr. Grey doesn’t reply right away, but takes a moment.

“No, I don’t mind.” 

“Did Kate, I mean, Miss Kavanagh explain what the interview was for?” Anastasia pressed ahead. 

“Yes, to appear in the graduation issue of the student newspaper as I shall be conferring the degrees at this year’s graduation ceremony.” Anastasia becomes temporarily distracted by the fact she has to see him again. No messing this one up, she tells herself, I can’t just hope I’ll never see him again. 

“May I ask you a few questions to start us off?” Anastasia pushed her hair away from her face, wondering if he was one of those people who thought serious women only wore their hair up. 

“I thought you might,” he says, deadpan. Anastasia sits up straighter, refusing to let this man act like her better.

“Well, to start, you’re very young to amassed such an empire. To what do you owe your success?” Anastasia read off a card. Glancing up, she sees what she reads as disappointment.

He replies with a stock response, one he appeared to have practiced. I this and I that, “I’m very good at judging people” really set Anastasia on edge. She hated people who said that. What a presumptuous lie. Everyone she ever met who said that often failed more often than not at judging people. In some cases, and she suspected Mr. Grey to be in this category, people bullied others into being what they wanted. 

“Maybe you’re just lucky.” Anastasia impulsively replied, too irritated to hold it in. His eyes widen in surprise. His response to this criticism only irritated her more.

“Sounds like you might just be a control freak, Mr. Grey,” the young women doesn’t even try to stop her words this time. 

“Oh, I exercise control in all things, Miss Steele,” he says without a trace of humor in his smile. Despite this, a bark of a laugh flies from Anastasia’s lungs. Mr. Grey stared at her, looking startled at her blatant amusement at this statement. He couldn’t really think that anyone could take him seriously with a comment like that, could he, Anastasia wondered. 

“Besides, immense power is acquired by assuring yourself in your secret reveries that you were born to control things,” he continues, his voice soft. Anastasia wondered if he was hoping to seduce her. She supposed that women often fell over themselves trying to impress him. 

“So, I will check yes for control freak,” Anastasia slipped out even has her mind popped up with a nice neutral, ‘do you feel that you have immense power.’ Her brain apparently preferred the more professional route over the brass impulses of her mouth. 

“I employ over forty thousand people, Miss Steele. That gives me a certain sense of responsibility- people to control, if you will. If I were to decide I was no longer interested in the telecommunications business and sell, twenty thousand people would struggle to make their mortgage payments after a month or so.” Anastasia was not surprised by his lack of humility. She had to admit that a part of him applauded him for realizing his responsibilities to his workers. Anastasia decided not to keep giving him fodder to hate her by. He’s arrogant, no big surprise there. Anastasia glanced over the cards again. 

“Do you have any interests outside your work?” 

“I have varied interests, Miss Steele.” A smile slipped around his mouth, practiced to seem mysterious. “Very varied.” 

“Well, what do you do to relax, to take a load off?” Anastasia felt annoyed by his apparent want to play a game with her questions. 

“Well, to take a load off as you put it, I sail. I fly. I indulge in various physical pursuits. I’m a very wealthy man, Miss Steele, and I have expensive and absorbing hobbies.” Anastasia wanted to gag. Seriously did everything he say have to sound like he was trying to hit on her. It was disgusting the way he phrased it all to pat himself on the back. Back to the cards. Must hold my tongue for Kate, Anastasia told herself. 

“Manufacturing? Why invest in that in particular?” 

“I like to build things. I like to know how things work: what makes things tick, how to construct and deconstruct. And I have a love of ships. What can I say?” 

“Sounds like a passion rather than a strategic business plan,” Anastasia responded, hoping to break some of his cool exterior. Instead, his mouth quirked up, and he appraises her. 

“Possibly. Though there are people who’d say I don’t have a heart.” Well, I wouldn’t say that, I’d say you don’t have a soul, Anastasia replied in her mind.

“Why would they say that?” She replied instead, thinking of Kate and how much Kate owned her one for not tearing this guy a new one. 

“Because they know me well.” His lips finally make a smile. If Anastasia had a dollar for every time she heard someone acclaim they didn’t have a heart. 

“That sounds a lot like something someone would say if they were trying to hide the real them from the rest of the world,” Anastasia couldn’t help but say. 

“I’m a very private person, Miss Steele. I go a long way to protect my privacy. I don’t often give interviews…” Anastasia noticed he kept saying her name. A tactic she remembered hearing from someplace about how to make someone comfortable. 

“Well, knowing Kate, you didn’t stand a chance to avoid this one,” Anastasia smirked, thinking about Kate badgering him until he finally relented.

“I admire the kind of tenacity Miss Kavanagh showed.” Anastasia bet he would be admiring her blonde hair too if she had been able to come. That brought the blondes back into her mind. Sexist hiring somehow in place, but surely broadcast as hiring equality. Cards, cue cards, must not get distracted, Anastasia reminded herself. 

“Well, we know why you like manufacturing, what about farming technologies. Why are you investing in that area?”

“We can’t eat money, Miss Steele, and there are too many people on this planet who don’t have enough to eat.” Anastasia looked pointedly around the very finely decorated room.

“Do you think about that while you’re sailing on your own boat and taking part in your other expensive and absorbing activities?” Anastasia hated hypocrites who acted like they were philanthropists while they wasted millions on their own luxurious lifestyle. On her top five of who she hates the most were wealthy philanthropists. He shrugged noncommittally. 

“It’s shrewd business,” he murmurs, as though abashed at this accusation. Anastasia bet some journalists ate it all up, him being so nice and investing in his passions but also investing in the betterment of human kind. No wonder this man was in control of such a powerful business; he knew how to play people. Next question, not going to push my luck and have him be angry, Anastasia asserts to herself.

“Do you have a personal philosophy that you wouldn’t mind sharing?” 

“I don’t have a philosophy as such. Maybe a guiding principle- Carnegie’s: ‘A man who acquires the ability to take full possession of his own mind may take possession of anything else to which he is justly entitled.’ I’m very singular, driven. I like control- of myself and those around me.” Anastasia couldn’t hold back a grimace this time. He studied her, studying how she took this information. She was not amused. The epitome of the white male in a hegemonic country. Anastasia wondered if she looked up the top 1% if his name would be included. No comment on that last one, moving ahead, Anastasia quickly decided. She smiled a little at the next question. 

“You were adopted. How much do you think that’s shaped who you are?” Let’s get personal. Thank you, Kate, for coming every possible angle. 

“I have no way of knowing.” Anastasia almost rolled her eyes. 

“How old were you when you were adopted?”

“That’s a matter of public record, Miss Steele.” His tone is stern. Whoops. But again with using my name, I want him to stop, Anastasia thought irritably. She didn’t much appreciate his stern tone as though she were a child misbehaving. He knew she was a substitute, what did he expect? She took more time deciding on the next question.

“Have you had to sacrifice family life for your work?” 

“I have a family. I have a brother and a sister and two loving parents. I’m not interested in extending my family beyond that.” Anastasia stared at the next question. It was as though Kate anticipated this reply. She probably had if she studied other interviews he had given. The question sat there, and Anastasia stood it up and walked it right out to the open. She hoped to make him uncomfortable. 

“Would you consider yourself homosexual, Mr. Grey?” Two could play the name game. 

“No, Anastasia, I’m not.” He raises his eyebrows, altogether appearing unpleasant as Anastasia hoped. Good. 

“I apologize. It’s written right here. I’m just following what Miss Kavanagh gave me this morning.” Anastasia gave a sweet smile of innocence. He cocks his head, the immense glare gone. Anastasia almost kicked herself for the stupid move on her part. She wanted him mad as she was. 

“There aren’t your own questions?” Anastasia furrowed her brows.

“Er… No. Miss Kavanagh compiled the questions.” 

“Are you colleagues on the student paper?” Anastasia finally blushes, knowing her credibility is about to be hurt. 

“No. She’s my roommate.” He rubs his chin in deliberation- of what Anastasia has no idea.

“Did you volunteer to do this interview?” He asks, his voice deadly quiet. Anastasia’s jaw tightened. What did he care how she got here? 

“No. I was drafted last minute. She didn’t know until this morning she would be unable to come.” Anastasia’s voice is just as quiet as his, but she does this to hide her insolent tone. 

“That explains a great deal.” Anastasia’s face is aflame, but she keeps her head up high. Then a knock on the door, one of the blondes from outside enters, informs Mr. Grey of his next meeting. When he cancels it, Anastasia almost speak up to try to convince him that is unnecessary as she has to go, but she misses her opening and the blonde disappears. Anastasia does note how the blonde seemed flustered by her boss in a not professional way. Well. 

“Where were we, Miss Steele?” Oh, back to Miss Steele. I prefer it, Anastasia moved her face around so to remove the annoyed look that surely sat cemented on her face. 

“Actually, I was wondering about your assistants. It’s curious they are all blonde,” Anastasia wanted him to kick her out. She was tired of this back and forth. 

“That’s not a question,” Mr. Grey informed her, as though he were teaching her how to interview.

“I suppose it’s not I’m just wondering how that happened to be. Seems there are laws out there about hiring based on hair color and looks.” Mr. Grey appeared almost amused. 

“If you are all out of questions, I want to know about you. I think that’s only fair.” Anastasia sits up a little straighter. On her face, an expression of annoyance.

“There’s not much to know,” she says deadpan. 

“What are your plans after you graduate?” Anastasia stares directly into his eyes, wondering where he planned on going with all this.

“I am working on finding work within a nonprofit. Although I have yet to receive a job offer, I do have applications still pending in several locations. However, that’s secondary, since I first have to pass my finals.” Which I should be studying for right now, Anastasia thought irritated. 

“We run an excellent internship program here,” he says quietly. Anastasia raises her eyebrows in surprise. 

“I’ll bear that in mind,” Anastasia murmurs, unwilling to sound grateful, “Though I’m not sure I’d fit in here.” I’m not blonde, Anastasia added in her head.

“Why do you say that?” He tilts his head to one side, intrigued, as though he had ignored all the insults the young women previously threw his way. 

“I would have thought our conversation during the interview answers that,” Anastasia replies, perhaps with more snark then necessary to push her point across. She then grabbed for her recorder, to signify clearly the interview was over. 

“Would you like me to show you around?” He asks.

“I’m sure you’re far too busy, Mr. Grey, and I do have a long drive.” 

“You’re driving back to Vancouver?” He sounds surprised, anxious even. He glances out of the window. It’s begun to rain. “Well, you’d better drive carefully.” His tone is stern, authoritative. Anastasia wanted nothing more than to run him over in her car.

“I’m sure I will manage just fine, Mr. Grey, I have been driving for some 6 odd years now. But thank you for your concern,” Anastasia added on the last part to try to save herself some face next time she saw him. No one could say she wasn’t polite.

“Did you get everything you need?” He asks as she packed up her bag. 

“Yes, sir.” Anastasia said, mocking his way of treating her like a child, “Thank you for the interview, Mr. Grey.” She held out her hand.

“The pleasure’s been all mine.” He grasps her hand. “Until we meet again, Miss Steele.” That almost sounded like a challenge, or at least that’s how Anastasia took it. Anastasia gave a steely expression back. If I ever meet you again outside a professional setting, you’d better be ready for what’s coming to you, Anastasia warned him in her head. 

“Mr. Grey,” was all she replied as she headed to the door. He beat her too it, however. 

“Just ensuring you make it through the door, Miss Steele.” He gave her a small smile. 

“That’s very considerate, Mr. Grey.” Anastasia snaps at him, biting back all the words flying around her head: misogyny, asshole, egotistical… 

“Do you have a coat?” He asked following her out. Leave, just leave me alone, Anastasia vowed. 

“A jacket,” she replied, just to be contrary. One of the blondes, who Anastasia recalled to be Olivia, jumped up to grab the jacket. She then proceeded to hand it to Mr. Grey, who forced Anastasia to bite her tongue once more and allow him to dress her. His hands sat on her shoulders for a moment longer than necessary, and Anastasia flinched at the touch. Mr. Grey insisted on summoning the elevator for her as well, because she apparently had become a complete invalid in the last few moments. This crossed the line of chivalry into another place entirely. Oh, right, misogyny. He stared at her from outside the elevator.

“Anastasia,” He finally bid her goodbye. She gave him one hard glare.

“Christian,” She practically snarled. 

That day, she swore if she ever ran into him again, she would put him solidly in his place. No one playing the quiet women. She would tell him exactly what she thought of his presumptuous nature and ego. Anastasia Steele was no woman to walk all over.

**Author's Note:**

> Right now, I'm just writing this as a one-shot. Maybe I'll come back to it later on. I would definitely be interested in rewriting the scene in the bar. However, if I wrote more, it would follow the movie more than the book, so I don't know if its worth it. If you'd like me to write more, let me know, because otherwise it will stay a one-shot. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! And cheers to all the true feminists out there. The feminists who love the men in their life and love having a door opened for them, but still don't much appreciate the mass misogyny out there and the fact that man act like women can't do anything.


End file.
